


caprimonth (2018)

by transsalfisher



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Captive Prince Month, Death, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mourning, Multi, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Smut, caprimonth, no actual rape or noncon just last mention of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-14 18:38:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 32
Words: 10,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14775042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transsalfisher/pseuds/transsalfisher
Summary: a collection of short ficlets for captive prince month (may 23-june 22), updated daily





	1. identity

Damen pulls some of Laurent’s long hair back and presses a tender kiss to the base of his neck. The blonde smiles in response and tilts his head, watching his other half in the mirror. Damen meets eye with him in their reflection before he wraps his arms around his middle and hugs him close. 

“Are you excited?” Damen asks.

“As one can be,” Laurent shrugs. “I’ve been more stressed than anything.”

“You stress about everything.”

“When do I not?”

Damen smiles and turns Laurent to face him. He holds his shoulders in his hands, gives them a squeeze, then kisses him tenderly. Laurent smiles against his lips and leans up into it. Every time he kisses Damen is like falling in love with him all over again.

He pulls away slowly and looks up at him with a small smile. Damen tucks some hair behind his ear and caresses the side of his cheek.

“This isn’t something you need to be stressed about.”

Laurent rolls his eyes and starts to walk towards the doors of his private chambers. Damen follows and grabs Laurent’s wrist, playfully pulling him back to him.

“It isn’t!” Damen insists. “Your coronation day should be something you’re excited for, something you should take pride in.”

“I never said I wasn’t proud of it.”

“You understand what I’m trying to say.”

“I do.” Laurent nods with a smile. “I’m nervous, I think.”

Laurent rolls up onto his toes and presses a kiss to the corner of Damen’s lips. He wraps his arms around him and Damen laces his arms around Laurent’s middle. He kisses his temple and holds him close, relishing the closeness and tenderness of the moment. 

“You shouldn’t be nervous,” Damen murmurs in his ear. “You’ll make a wonderful king.”

Laurent smiles and squeezes Damen. He doesn’t want to think about being king or coronation day. He just wants to hold Damen for a moment. Just enjoy the feeling of his lover’s arms around him.

“You look handsome,” Damen notes once Laurent pulls away. “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” Laurent smiles.

Damen offers him his arm and Laurent takes it. They exit his private chambers and continue through the halls, catching occasional glimpses of the crowd through the windows. They approach the balcony door and Laurent pauses, inhaling slowly. The doors open and he walks out.

The sunlight is blinding and Laurent has never heard anything so loud in his life. It’s overwhelming, but despite it all, he can still hear the chants of the people clearly:

_Long live King Laurent de Vere! Long live King Laurent de Vere! Long live King Laurent de Vere!_


	2. “Hello, lover.”

He feels like he’s going to melt. Even with the windows open, the heat is almost too much. Both of them kicked the sheets off of the bed a long time ago, which helped for a little. But not for very long.

Even though Damen had become used to the heat of Akeilon summers, the intense heat waves still got him every time. Especially after he had spent winter and spring in Vere. The climates were very different from each other, so acclimating to the weather in Akeilos was like acclimating to it all over again.

Still, despite the heat, Damen can’t bring himself to move Laurent from his chest. It’s rare when he sleeps this well, especially in the summertime, and who is Damen to rob him of that sleep? His arm is starting to fall asleep and he can feel his body sticking to Laurent’s, but he doesn’t care. As long as Laurent is happy and comfortable, so is Damen.

He feels like he’s melting. But it doesn’t matter. Laurent’s soft snores that fill the silent bedchamber make up for it. Damen listens to his steady breathing, watching the rise and fall of his own chest. He reaches down and gently combs his fingers through Laurent’s golden locks.

Laurent hums, leaning up towards the touch. Damen watches quietly as his blonde eyelashes flutter and his eyes slowly open. Laurent stretches and Damen can feel his leg shake from the intensity of the stretch. He rolls off of Damen’s chest and stretches again before he settles on his side.

He looks up at Damen, looking pleasantly sleepy, and smiles.

“Hello, lover.”


	3. point of view

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for some very soft nsfw ahead

Laurent is like a work of art. Skin like porcelain, messy hair, pink lips parted slightly, the tips of his ears heating up to match the colors of his cheeks.

He watches as Laurent arches his back, his eyelids fluttering. Damen has never seen such beautiful eyes in his life and when they flutter like that he feels his heart swell.

Damen presses a soft kiss to the inside of his thigh, watching Laurent from between his legs. He feels Laurent’s hand reach down and slowly toy with his dark curls. He smiles against his thigh, holding one in his free hand as the other continues to curl his fingers inside of the blonde.

“Laurent.” Damen says.

Laurent raises his head from the pillows, looking at him through kisses eyes.

“Damainos.” Laurent responds warmly.

Damen looks at him for a moment, taking a mental picture. Laurent is ethereal, he looks like an angel descended from heaven.

“You’re absolutely stunning.”


	4. loyalty

“You’re always going to be mine, aren’t you?” Comes the small voice to Auguste’s left.

The prince looks down at his younger brother and furrows his brow. He smiles a little, chuckles quietly to himself, then adjusts himself in his chair. He reaches down and picks Laurent up, sitting him in his lap.

“Of course,” Auguste says. “What kind of a question is that?”

Laurent shrugs, reaching down to play with the frills on his sleeves. Auguste can see the tips of his ears heating up from under his blonde locks. Auguste bounces him a little, then tilts his chin up.

“Who else would I belong to?” Auguste asks.

Laurent shrugs his shoulders and Auguste feels the something isn’t right. Laurent usually throws the question around with a smile on his face. He seems to be more shy when asking this time.

“Father says..” Laurent inhales then swallows. “Father says you’re going to have to start looking for a bride soon.”

Auguste clicks his tongue and leans back in his seat.

“Yes, that’s true.”

“No!” Laurent all but wails suddenly.

He presses his face into Auguste’s chest and grips onto his shirt. Auguste frowns and bounces Laurent gently, petting his head. Laurent sniffles and whimpers into his chest for a few minutes before Auguste nudges his cheek.

“Laurent.”

“No!”

“Laurent, look at me.”

“No!”

“Why not?”

“Because you can’t see me cry!” He says stubbornly. “You can’t!”

“I’ve seen you cry a million times before.”

Laurent makes a defeated noise into Auguste’s chest. Slowly, he peeks up at him, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. Auguste has to bite his cheek to try to keep from smiling. Laurent is just a cute kid, even when he’s upset.

“Why are you upset?”

“Because…” Laurent mumbles.

“Because why?”

Laurent looks away, gripping onto Auguste’s shirt. Auguste gives him his time, this is obviously hard for the younger prince. Laurent sniffles and more tears flow down his cheeks.

“Because, i-if you get married you’re going to l-leave and forget all about me and the-en you won’t be _mine_ anymore.”

“Laurent,” Auguste says in an almost scolding tone. Then, more tenderly. “Laurent, you know that won’t happen.”

Laurent shrugs his shoulder, rubbing his eyes. Auguste gently takes his wrists and looks his younger brother in the eyes.

“Even if I get married, I’m still going to be _your_ Auguste.” He says softly. “And even if _you_ get married, you’re still going to be _my_ Laurent.”

Laurent sniffles and holds out his pinky. “Pr-Promise?”

Auguste smiles and wraps his pinky around Laurent’s, sealing the promise with a kiss to both of their fingers.

“I swear.”


	5. forgiveness

It’s always late at night when it hits Laurent.

After they bathe and Damen lays with him. He turns over then Laurent sees it and he’s flooded with guilt, without fail, every night. 

But then it keeps him awake. 

He lays on his back and stare at the canopy above their bed, tracing th designs with his eyes. He can’t stand to look at it, but he has it memorized in his mind. Each stripe of lightened skin that took so long to heal. Each overlapping stripe, forever burned into his brain.

The image of Damen stretches out over the cross, helpless. Laurent can only imagine the pain. Laurent could have killed him. Laurent could have hurt him much worse than he did. 

It’s something he’ll never forget and something he knows Damen won’t forget either.

He’s never asked Damen about it. He knows he should. He just isn’t sure how to work it into conversation. He isn’t sure if it’s ever a good time to bring it up.

He rolls over and looks at Damen’s back as he snores. Laurent reaches out and carefully traces the scarred skin. He feels his heart ache and he genuinely regrets that decision that he made so long ago.

He’s not sure if he deserves it, but would Damen ever forgive him for it?


	6. forgiveness (again)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> past suicide reference so be careful

“Do you think he meant it?” 

Laurent looks over at Jord, eyebrows raised slightly at the sudden question. He regains his cool composure and takes a slow sip of water before looking down at his book.

“Aimeric?” Jord continues.

“That’s not really for me to decide,” Laurent answers, slowly turning a page in his book. “I didn’t know him well enough to tell if he was a genuine person.”

“He was.” Jord assures.

Laurent shoots him a look and Jord sighs, rubbing at his forehead. Laurent rolls his eyes then bites the inside of his cheek. He’s trying very hard not to be impersonable, he knows it’s a difficult topic for Jord.

“I know he betrayed you,” Jord says quietly. “But when he was with me he was different. He…” He shakes his head. “I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.”

Laurent doesn’t respond, just keeps scanning through his book. Jord taps his fingers on the table, head resting in his hand. Laurent glances up at him momentarily and can’t help but wonder what brought on this unprompted question. It definitely wasn’t a conversation Laurent wanted to be having.

“Do I think he meant what?” Laurent asks, breaking the silence between them.

“His apology.”

Laurent feels his heart freeze over. He can still see it in his mind when he thinks about it, still remembers seeing Aimeric’s body. He wonders how his mother his holding up.

“I’m not really at a place to say.” Laurent answers.

They’re silent again. Laurent takes another sip of water, trying to think of a way to steer the conversation elsewhere without seeming inconsiderate. Aimeric just wasn’t something he was ready to talk about.

“Would you forgive him?” Jord asks.

Laurent thinks it over for a moment. “No.” He looks up, meeting Jord’s gaze. “Would _you_?”

Jord looks momentarily pained and Laurent can’t help but feel bad. It wasn’t a question meant to hurt him, it was just Laurent’s curiosity getting the best of him. He looked back down at his book, takin Jord’s silence as an answer.

Needless to say, he’s surprise when Jord’s response finally comes:

“I think so.” He inhales and Laurent swears he can hear a quiver in his tone. “He was a good kid.”


	7. power

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mild nsfw ahead!!!

“Down.” Comes Laurent’s firm voice as he presses his foot into Damen’s chest. “Getting a little needy, are we?”

“Laurent, please.” Damen breathes, pressing his face into the soft skin of his thigh.

Laurent’s eyes soften and he gently runs his fingers through Damen’s hair. Damen leans up into the touch, closing his eyes and nuzzling his hand. Laurent reaches his foot down and gently runs it up the length of Damen’s erection. Damen shivers and presses his face into the area between Laurent’s thigh and hip. 

Laurent smiles, scratching his scalp as he continues to run his foot up and down Damen’s erection. Damen rocks up into it, moaning lowly into the skin of Laurent’s hip. He swallows hard, biting the inside of his cheek. Laurent has always had some strange power over him when they were like this. It felt like he was in some sort of trance.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” Laurent asks, cocking his head of blonde hair to one side.

Damen pulls his face from his hip and looks up at him. He nods his head and exhales slowly.

“Please,” Damen begs. “I can’t keep up like this, _Laurent_.” He says.

“Mm.” Laurent hums sympathetically. “My poor barbarian. Have I pushed him too far?” Damen shakes his head. “Good.”

Laurent pulls his foot away from Damen’s erection and Damen whines, still rocking his hips up into nothing. Laurent smiles, he loves when Damen is needy like this. He’s very fun to play with.

“Beg for it.” Laurent says.

Damen wastes no time. He gently presses kisses down Laurent’s thighs. He looks up at him through lidded eyes, panting slightly.

“ _Please_ , Laurent.” Damen starts, voice quivering softly. “Please, I can’t do this for much longer. I want you to fuck me, I need you to fuck me.” He pauses to inhale. “Please, Laurent.”

Laurent smiles softly, still combing his fingers through Damen’s hair. He gently tugs him up to meet him and presses their lips together. Damen kisses him back hungrily, wrapping his arms around his middle.

“You’re wonderful, my darling,” Laurent hums softly. He lays back onto the bed and gently runs his hand up and down Damen’s bicep. “But you’re going to have to convince me first.”


	8. women

It’s when Laurent squirms for the fifth time in two minutes that Hennike sighs slowly and decides it’s time for a break. She sighs and picks up her youngest son and turns him to her. He whines and squirms in her arms as Hennike walks over to her bed and sits down, holding him in her lap.

“Laurent, darling, you know you have to get dressed.” She says to the pouting child.

“No!” He declares loudly.

“Why won’t you let me dress you?”

“Don’t like it!”

Hennike can’t argue with that. Auguste never liked getting dressed either. Laces and toddlers didn’t go together very well. She was a patient mother and she tried to do what she could to make it easier on the little ones. But Laurent is much more stubborn than his older brother was.

“I know, my darling, but I can take you out of them once we have dinner.”

“I don’t _want_ dinner!”

“Yes you do,” she says gently, petting her hand over her son’s hair.

He presses his face into her stomach and holds onto her tightly. He nuzzles the soft fabric of her dress then looks up at her, still latched around his mother’s middle.

“If you don’t go to dinner, then who will Auguste sit by?” She asks.

“You.”

“Me?” Hennike smiles. “You know he won’t have as much fun with me as he would with you.”

Laurent shrugs his shoulders and presses his gave back into her stomach. Hennike gently reaches behind him and continues to do his laces. It’s an awkward angle, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Besides,” she says. “I know you don’t want to have to sit with Paschal while all of us are at dinner. And I’m sure he’d much rather rest than babysit.”

“I like Paschal,” Laurent says into her stomach.

“And he likes you,” Hennike answers softly. “But you know he works very hard. Why don’t we let him rest, hm? And you can come to dinner with Auguste and I.”

Laurent pouts and pulls his face from her stomach. She finishes off the final laces and ties them, not tight enough to hurt him but tight enough for him to not slip out of. She stands and picks him up, spinning him around, then kissing his nose. 

Laurent squeals with delight and kicks his legs. Hennike smiles and gently holds him on her hip. She bounces him gently and pets his hair. He smiles and throws his arms around her neck.

“Do I have to wear shoes?” Laurent asks suddenly.

Hennike thinks it over for a moment and decides that it’s not worth trying to force him into them. He’ll be fine without them and if anyone decides to take notice, they can take it up with her. Raising a toddler with Vere’s stylistic choices is very difficult.

“No, darling,” Hennike says as she walks towards the doors. “I won’t make you wear shoes.”

Laurent smiles and nuzzles his face into her neck, wrapping his legs around her middle. Hennike smiles and exits her private chambers then proceeds down the hall. She has the most stubborn children in the world, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.


	9. “A kingdom, or this.”

Laurent inhales the warm summer air as they walk through the garden. He holds Damen’s hand, enjoying the silence between them. It’s comfortable, relaxed silence. Not silence that either of them worry about having to fill.

The question pops into Laurent’s mind suddenly, unprompted. It’s a question they’ve both asked each other a million times in the darkness of their bedroom while their hands gently explore each other’s bodies all over again. A question they’ve both answered a million times with a tender kiss on the cheek as they hold each other close.

But it still doesn’t stop Laurent from asking one more time.

“You wouldn’t have had this any other way, would you?” Laurent asks as they sit under an apricot tree, Damen’s head in his lap.

“Mm?” Damen hums lazily, opening his eyes to look up at Laurent.

“This.” Laurent says against “You wouldn’t have had it any other way, would you?”

“Of course I would have,” Damen answers.

Laurent blinks at him expectantly, awaiting the rest of his response. Damen reaches up and cups Laurent’s cheek. Laurent leans into the touch, humming softly.

“If I had the chance, I would have courted you properly,” he says. “I would have met you before any war had the chance to start. I would have made sure things were different.”

They stare at each other for a long moment. Damen smiles and he sits up, pressing a tender kiss to Laurent’s lips.

“While I wish the circumstances were different,” he says between kisses. “I still wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhhhh i rly don’t like this one :’)


	10. youth (without youth)

He thinks he’s older than he is. Laurent sees it in the way he carries himself, the way he talks, the way he interacts with people. It makes him sick. He thinks he’s a grown man when he’s still nothing more than a child.

That’s why, when accused of not treating him like an adult, Laurent’s cool demeanor starts to crack.

“Nicaise, you are a _child_.” He reminds him.

“Not for very much longer.” The brunette retorts, crossing his arms and jutting out one hip.

Laurent stares at him, trying to hide the look of horror he feels trying to seep out of his eyes. He sighs slowly, forcing himself to remain collected. He walks over to one of his lounging chairs and sits down, smoothing back long blonde hair.

“I’m not going to treat you like an adult when you are an adult.” Laurent answers. “No matter how close you think you are to being an adult.”

Maybe it’s some unresolved anger at his younger self resurfacing, he’s not sure, but he hates that he has to have this conversation with him. Nicaise watches him from across the room, eyes narrow blue slits. 

“Oh, don’t act mad at me,” Laurent sighs. “You know I’m right.”

“You’re not.”

“I am.”

“ _You’re not._ ” 

Laurent stares at him for a moment before he stands and walks over to Nicaise. He bends to his height and gently takes his cheeks in his hands. Nicaise doesn’t fight him, doesn’t squirm, just stares up at him.

“There is nothing wrong with being a child,” he says gently, almost motherly. “You need to have a childhood, at least a little bit of one. Don’t worry about growing up so fast. You don’t need to grow up fast.”

Nicaise meets Laurent’s icy blue eyes and stares at him for a moment. Laurent can see he’s made a point, he can see it clicking behind Nicaise’s sapphire blue eyes. There’s a moment between them. A heartbreaking, terribly real moment. 

Nicaise rips away from Laurent and storms to the library door.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed,” Nicaise sneers. “But my childhood was taken from me a long time ago. It’s too late for me.”

He opens the door then slams it shut and Laurent is left staring. He inhales slowly, rubbing his temples.

He can’t tell if he hates his Uncle because of what he did to him or because of what he did to Nicaise.


	11. parallels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think a lot about how smaurent just wanted auguste to come home and save him and about how he wanted to nicaise and how he more than likely wanted to be nicaise’s auguste :’)

He sees a lot of Auguste in himself. Especially so when he offered to buy Nicaise’s contract.

He sat in his room that same night and thought. Why did he do that? It wasn’t that he regretted it or that he has changed his mind. He just genuinely wondered.

He thinks of Auguste. All he wanted was Auguste home to protect him. He needed protection from a friendly face in a time of terrible, sickening darkness. A darkness that Nicaise, also, often faced.

“I wanted to be his Auguste,” Laurent says finally into the quiet room.

Damen looks up at him, brows furrowing.

“What?”

“I… Wanted to be Nicaise’s Auguste,” he repeats. “And I couldn’t be. I…”

Laurent stops himself, leaning against the window sill. Damen crosses over to him, resting his hand gently on his shoulder.

Laurent hates crying. He hates, even more, crying in front of people. But despite that deeply rooted hatred, Laurent begins to cry. And now that he’s started, he feels like he can’t stop.

“I wanted to be his Auguste, I wanted to protect him.”

He can’t think, his mind is whirling with thoughts and emotions he hasn’t experienced in forever. When he finally collects his thoughts, the crying has intensified, and they come out in a whimper:

“And now he’s _dead_ and there’s _nothing_ I can do.”


	12. unity

“You win, Nikandros,” Damen smiles, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “Fair and square. You’re better than I remember you being.”

“Or you’ve just gotten arrogant.” 

Damen laughs, clapping Nikandros on the back as he exits the arena. It feels like forever since they’ve wrestled. What with a newly joined nation, Damen’s life has been busier than ever. And if Damen’s life is busy, Nikandros is busy.

“It’s nice spending time with you,” Nikandros says. “Neither of us really get the chance to relax like we used to.”

“Not anymore.” Damen responds with a shake of his head. “With Laurent’s newfound kingship and whatnot.”

Damen notices Nikandros stiffen at mention of the blonde king and Damen can’t help but laugh. He wraps an arm around Nikandros’ shoulders and squeezes him. Nikandros rolls his eyes.

“What?” Damen says. “You’ve still not come around to him?”

“I’m never going to come around to him,” Nikandros says. “He’s a wolf in sheep's clothing.”

“He doesn’t live up to all the Akielon myths, you know that.”

Nikandros shrugs his shoulders and begins to pull his chiton back on. Damen watches him quietly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Surely you trust him a little.”

“I do not.” Nikandros responds without moment’s hesitation.

Damen begins to put his chiton back on, frowning. He knows Nikandros is only looking at his best interest. It’s his job to be wary of the people Damen allows around him. But, Gods, if Damen doesn’t want Nikandros to at least like Laurent.

“I can’t say I like or dislike him,” Nikandros begins, as if he read Damen’s mind. “Or that I don’t trust or trust him. I remember what’s happened between Akeilos and Vere in the past.”

“But the past is the past, Nikandros.”

Nikandros looks at him. “I wasn’t finished.”

Damen widens his eyes a little bit nods his head nonetheless, urging the other man to continue.

“Despite it all and despite his… _Reputation_. If he makes you happy, I am happy. I just wonder why he has such an effect on you.”

Damen smiles as Nikandros pulls his long hair over his shoulder. He wraps it around his hand and pulls it into a tight bun. The second he’s done, Damen throws his arms around him and laughs.

“What?” Nikandros asks.

“You’re soft,” Damen smiles. “You’re soft and I love that about you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BROS BROS BROS BROS


	13. deceit

“Did you know that you’re absolutely beautiful?”

Jokaste scoffs as she pours water into a basin. She glances over her shoulder at Damianos and smiles nonetheless. She sets the pitcher down and gently splashes water onto her pale face, dries it, then crosses back over to the bed.

“You needn’t tell me things I already know,” she says.

“But I know you love to hear it.”

Jokaste lets out a hum of agreement, watching as Damianos starts to play with the sheer fabric of her robe. He looks up at her, smitten, and leans up to press a soft kiss to her cheek.

“Still,” she says, pulling just out of his reach. “I’m sure you’d say that to every blonde woman in Akielos.”

“I would not.” Damianos argues neutrally. 

“Then how beautiful am I?” Jokaste asks quizzically. 

Damianos almost feels as if it might be a trick question. It’s almost like he’s walking on thin ice. He pushes himself up into a sitting position and wraps his arms around her middle. He presses soft kisses to her neck and she leans her head to grant him better access.

“You rival with all of the Goddesses,” Damianos says. “Even Aphrodite herself.”

“You’re going to be damned for saying that,” Jokaste smiles.

“You’re like the night sky, shining and breathtaking.” He continues regardless. “Beautiful like a new, undiscovered world. Thriving and untouched and amazing.”

“I wouldn’t go as far as to say untouched.”

“Jokaste.” He grabs her shoulders and turns her to face him.

She looks up at him, batting her blonde lashes. He’s putty in her hands and she knows it. She’s made him an absolute fool for her. He’s just where she wants him.

“You are beautiful beyond words.”

Jokaste clicks her tongue and smiles. She raises a hand and gently caresses it across Damianos’ cheekbone. She watches him close his eyes and lean into the soft touch. He gently holds her hand i. his and hums lowly.

“My darling,” Jokaste smiles. “You’re too good to me.”

“And I could say the same to you.”

He pulls her into her lap without protest. She wraps her legs around his middle and her arms around his neck. She’s just where she wants to be, in the lap of royalty.

“Damianos, sweetheart,” she purrs. “One more thing?”

“Anything, my love.”

Jokaste leans forwards, pressing her lips to Damianos’. He hums and leans up into it, running a hand through her locks of gold. She pulls away slowly, their lips just barely touching.

“You would do anything for me?”

“Without hesitation.”


	14. “I think if I gave you my heart, you would treat it tenderly.”

Laurent never expected a barbarian to be so gentle in bed. But, with Damen, it’s always soft touches, soft kisses, soft voices, soft words.

_I love you, Laurent._

_Laurent, you’re incredibly handsome._

_I love seeing you like this._

_I couldn’t have asked for anyone better._

Laurent almost doesn’t know what to do with all the gentleness. It’s not bad. No, Laurent adores it. It’s tender with Damianos. It’s real and it’s loving and it’s all Laurent has ever wanted. 

“Damen?” Laurent pants between moans.

Damen lifts his head from Laurent’s neck and looks down at him.

“Laurent?”

“I love you.” He says, voice soft. “I love you so much.”


	15. complex

Loving Laurent is complex. It was and forever will be. Even more complex is trying to understand him, trying to see how his mind works.

Laurent is enigmatic. He thinks one way and executes a completely different way. When alone, he’s very in tune with his emotions. But somehow he can hide them from the world and even the people around him.

He is stubborn, but he is driven. Once he makes his mind up, good luck getting him to change it. He stands for his own ideas and he isn’t afraid to finish a fight. 

Laurent, on his own, is complex. He’s frustrating and snarky and sometimes hard to get along with.

But Damen wouldn’t have him any other way.


	16. vulnerable/strong

Laurent can’t always be strong. He wishes he could be, but it’s impossible. Sometimes he keeps it inside for too long and it all floods out for no reason. The smallest thing will finally make his walls crumble around him. 

“You don’t have to always be strong,” Damen whispers one night, stroking his tear streaked cheeks.

“I do,” Laurent croaks, voice hoarse from crying. “If I can’t be strong, then what can I be?”

“You.” Damen answers. “You’re still you even without your strong outer shell.”

Laurent looks up at him, swallowing hard. In the dim light, Damen sees his lower lip quiver. Damen holds his arms out and Laurent falls into them, sobbing. He feels pathetic.

But despite it all, he feels safe in Damen’s arms. He can hide in Damen’s arms and let his wall down.


	17. journey

Whenever he gets too close to the sea or too close to a boat, he thinks about it. He thinks about the perilous journey to Vere. It makes his gut roll and his heart drop down to his toes.

So, naturally, it was difficult for Erasmus when he greeted Torveld at the docks after he had come home from a trip. Torveld knows vaguely of what happened to Erasmus. Erasmus doesn’t like to talk about it too much. It’s easier to just put it behind him. 

They’re sitting in Torveld’s private chambers when he finally brings it up. He walks over to Erasmus and smooths honeyed curls from his face to gently press a kiss to his forehead.

“You seemed skittish around the boat launch today,” he says.

“Oh,” Erasmus says softly. “Boats make me nervous.”

Torveld stares at him, watching Erasmus’ eyes avoid his gaze. He leans down, pressing a kiss to his cheekbone.

“May I ask why?”

Erasmus looks at Torveld, feeling his heart beat straight out of his chest. He can’t tell him. He can’t tell Torveld about what happened to him on his journey to Vere. What if he thinks less of him? What if he doesn’t want him as a slave anymore?

“Erasmus.” Comes Torveld’s gentle voice, piercing through Erasmus’ thoughts.

Erasmus looks up at him, eyes watering. Torveld frowns and pulls Erasmus to him, running his fingers through his soft curls.

“I’m sorry,” Erasmus says, wiping at his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Sh,” Torveld soothes. “It’s nothing you need to apologize for. We don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready.”

Erasmus nods, gently reaching out and touching Torveld’s chest. He swallows down the lump in his throat and opens his mouth to speak. When all that comes out is a whimper, Torveld gently holds him close and hushes him.

“I’ve got you, sweet Erasmus,” he says softly. “Relax, I have you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all i can do is write angst and i’m Sorry


	18. “I know who you are, Damianos.”

“I think you’ll like him quite a lot.” Auguste says as he escorts his brother to the throne room.

“He’s an Akielon, how much can I possibly like him?”

“He’s not like people say,” Auguste says. “You trust me, don’t you?”

Laurent rolls his eyes and walks into the throne room. His mother looks up and smiles, standing to walk over to her sons. Auguste leans down so his mother can kiss his cheek, then she walks over to hug Laurent. 

“Your father will be back with them any minute now.” She says, escorting both of them to the thrones. “You’re both expected to be respectful.”

“Of course,” Laurent says, slowly sitting down. Auguste sits next to him, nudging him playfully.

“I think you’ll like their youngest son,” Hennike hums, sitting next to Auguste.

“Funny, Auguste said the same thing.” Laurent answers.

The three look up as Aleron enters, the Akielon royal family following. Auguste, Laurent, and Hennike stand as they approach, making pleasantries. Laurent watches them silently, trying to remember what political reasons they’re visiting Vere for.

Laurent is pulled from his thoughts when the youngest son approached him. Damen kneels before him, gently taking Laurent’s hand and pressing a kiss to it. Laurent raises a blonde eyebrow, mildly amused.

“Prince Laurent, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he says. “Allow me to introduce myself.”

Laurent smiles. He’s a charming prince and he’s certainly snagged Laurent’s attention. Perhaps this trip won’t be as bad as he assumed.

“No need,” he says, lowering his head in a bow. Their eyes meet and Laurent offers a small smile. “I know who you are, Damianos.”


	19. loss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nobody really,,,, talks,,,, abt what all damen went through

He’s lost everything. He lost his mother and father, which was a hard burden to bare. Now, he’s lost the trust of his only brother and his (once) lover. 

He’s lost his kingdom, his throne, his crown. He’s lost everything and now he’s been shipped off to Vere, enemy territory. He needs to be careful but he doesn’t know what to expect.

He’s lost everything. What else can he possibly lose next?


	20. world— politics, culture, history, language, etc.

“So,” Lazar says as Pallas lays on his chest. “How are you liking Vere?”

“Oh, it’s very nice.” Pallas answers. “I can’t believe I never visited sooner.”

“It’s a shame you had to come on such,” he pauses. “Tense circumstances.”

“War is never a good reason to travel, I agree.” He says. “But, I’m at least thankful I got to come here and meet you.”

“Yes.” Lazar says.

He leans down and presses his lips to Pallas’. Pallas hums and presses up into it, shifting to throttle his middle. Lazar places his hands on his bare hips, content.

“Have you ever been to Akielos?” Pallas asks when he pulls away. 

“Few times, yes.” He answers. “I don’t much remember it, I was young.”

“You should come back with me,” Pallas says. “Just for a small vacation.”

Lazar smiles, tucking some hair behind the other’s ear. Pallas leans into the affectionate touch, humming.

“I might,” he says. “Surely, after this, a Veretian man in Akielos won’t be too odd.”

“Surely not,” he grins back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> foreign boyfriends :’)


	21. fall/rise

Laurent’s rise was borderline orgasmic. For so long it was such a struggle. Once his father and Auguste died, he fell to his lowest point. A point that he never wants to revisit. 

But he’s risen back to where he should have been so long ago. Now, here he is, arm and arm with his husband, looking over at their joined nation.

“You know,” Laurent says. “If I had told myself when I was thirteen that I was going to be a king of two nations, I would have never believed myself.”

Damen smiles, tucking golden hair behind Laurent’s ear as he presses a kiss to his temple.

“Well then, I’m sure 13 year old Laurent is extremely impressed with you.”

Laurent’s face flushes a soft shade of pink and he smiles. He leans his head on Damen’s shoulder, holding his hand in his.

“Hopefully,” he says. “I’m sure it would be nice for him to know that all that struggling was worth it in the end.”


	22. love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> suicide tw??  
> nothing graphic, it’s just referring to aimeric

It’s in his final hours that Aimeric wonders if he genuinely knows what love is. He _thought_ The Regent loved him. He thought they were going to have a life together…

Maybe not a life, but he thought they would at least be happy together. Happy with Aimeric at his side and in love. Just the two of them…

He feels sick. He sees it, now. Love was just a disgusting word that he threw around for fun. He used it to get what he wanted. He was such an idiot to believe even for a second that The Regent actually loved him.

He looks down at his chained wrists, feeling hot tears well up in his eyes. He starts to wonder, has anybody ever loved him? He’s the youngest of many other brothers so, naturally, his parents’ love goes to them first. But, as for romantically, has anyone ever loved him?

 _Jord._ He thinks and he feel his heart break.

He thinks Jord loves him. But how can he? How can he still love him after Aimeric has proven himself to be a traitor? Surely, not.

So in his final hours, all Aimeric can do is sit and cry and wonder: Has he ever _really_ experienced love?


	23. fashion

They decided it needed to be done when neither of them could make up their minds on how to dress for their wedding. Of course, Damen wanted something traditionally Akielon and Laurent wanted something traditionally Veretian.

“Why don’t I wear Akielon marriage clothes and you wear Veretian?” Damen had asked.

“Are you serious?” Laurent responded tiredly as he looked over their guest list. “It would look like a mess, no. We have to come up with some sort of hybrid.”

So now, they sit, looking over designs that both Veretian and Akielon stylists have put together. It’s not that they aren’t wonderful and terribly creative but they don’t seem to fit the wedding. Never in his life did Laurent think he would be this picky about a wedding, but it was his wedding after all.

“What about this one?” Damen asks, holding up a very interesting hybrid of a wedding chiton with Vere’s laces and colors.

“I don’t know,” Laurent says with a click of his tongue. “I almost want something _simpler_.”

He looks at all the clothes in front of them then back to Damen, a look of almost concern on his face.

“Am I being too picky about this?”

“Certainly not.” Damen answers.

Both of them sift through clothes again. Minutes later, Damen crosses over to Laurent, another garment in hand.

“I think this is interesting,” Damen says.

Laurent looks it over. He tilts his head and sighs, running a hand through his long hair. He reaches out and takes the fabric between his fingers, looking over the intricate designs.

“I don’t think the color would be right.” He answers reluctantly.

Damen nods his head and walks back over to a rack of clothing. Laurent watches him go then starts to look at the rack in front of him. They’re all gorgeous and genius but they just feel like too… Much.

Laurent pulls out a small bit of fabric and stares down at it. He glances over at Damen, still searching, then walks with it behind his dressing screen. Damen pauses to look over at him.

“What did you find?” He asks hopefully.

“Hold on,” Laurent asks. “I want to see how it looks on first.”

Not long after, Laurent walks out from behind the dressing screen, holding blue fabric to him. He walks over to Damen and turns around, showing a back of laces. Without being told, Damen begins to lace the gold fabric.

“I know you don’t like laces,” Laurent says. “But I think it really brings it together.”

Damen finishes, looking at Laurent’s marble skin peeking through laces of blue and gold. There isn’t fabric to cover his back, just the laces to hold it together. Laurent pushes a cloth of silk over his shoulder, covering some of his skin, then turns to look at the other man.

Damen studies the clothes with interest.

A blue and gold chiton with Veretian patterns. Thick silks cover the neckline and come over both of Laurent’s shoulders, pinned with a starburst, and ties together with laces in the back. It’s complicated, but Damen thinks it’s stunning.

“We can both wear laurel wreaths, too,” Damen says. 

Laurent grins and walks over to his lover, wrapping his arms around him. 

“You can wear red and gold and I can wear blue and gold.” He says.

“And we can have the silk follow you like a train,” Damen adds.

It’s far from traditional Vere attire or traditional Akielon attire, but neither of them could be happier.


	24. strategy

“You’re very clever,” Aimeric says.

Jord looks up from the map he’s been hunched over and smiles. He rests a head on his hand and looks over at the younger man. 

“What makes you say that?” He asks.

Aimeric shrugs his shoulders and walks over to Jord. He stands behind him and slowly wraps his arms around his middle. He presses a few kisses to Jord’s jaw and looks over at the map.

“Just… All of this.” Aimeric says. “You analyze maps so well and you’re able to look at them and strategize.”

“It’s not too hard,” Jord says sheepishly. “Maps are pretty easy to understand. You just have to find your strong spots and low spots.”

Aimeric smiles and reaches down, running his fingers along the sides of the map. Vere is larger than it feels on a map. He traces river lines and mountains, his eyes running across everything on the map. 

“My brothers and my father taught me how to read a map and how to strategize but,” he shrugs. “It just never really stuck with me. I was never really fond of war, you know.”

“Nobody is,” Jord says. “But, really, it’s not that hard.”

“Says the captain.” Aimeric mocks.

He walks around and sits on the table next to the map. Jord gently runs a hand up and down Aimeric’s clothed leg. Aimeric smiles, enjoying the gentle attention. 

“I can show you how I do it sometime,” Jord says.

“What?” Aimeric asks. “Come up with war strategies?”

“Well, not necessarily _war_.” He says.

Aimeric smiles, nudging him gently. Jord stands slowly and wraps his arms around Aimeric. Aimeric leans towards him, nuzzling his face into the larger man’s chest. He closes his eyes, sighing contently as Jord cards his fingers through his hair. 

He sighs, pressing a gentle kiss to Aimeric’s hairline. He worries about the younger man, especially on the brink of war. But surely everything will be okay.


	25. truth

“I love you.”

Auguste winces as he turns to look at his brother. He sighs, his heart aching. He looks wonderful, dressed as Auguste’s best man. Wedding clothes suit him very well. It’s something about the white and Laurent’s hair…

“Please don’t say that,” Auguste says, staring at the younger prince. “Please.”

Laurent just stares at him, eyes icy and blue. He sighs slowly and turns on his heel, ready to leave until the wedding started Auguste leans forward and takes Laurent’s wrist.

“Auguste, stop.” He says quietly.

“I don’t want you to leave yet,”

“I need to.” Laurent says, looking over at him. “I don’t need to do this to you on your wedding day, of all days.”

“Come here.”

“No.”

“ _Please._ ”

Auguste drops Laurent’s wrist and the younger man stares at him. Laurent sighs slowly and walks over to his brother, staring up at him. Auguste reaches out and pulls Laurent close. 

Laurent hugs him back tightly, presses his face into Auguste’s neck. Auguste strokes Laurent’s hair, presses kisses to his head as he does. Laurent bites his lip.

“You’re not going to let her replace me, are you?” Laurent asks childishly.

“Of course not.” Auguste says softly.

“And you’re not going to let her drag you off to wherever it is she wants to go?” 

“No,”

Laurent nods once and holds onto him tightly. Auguste noses Laurent’s blonde locks and bites his lip.

“You’re going to make a wonderful husband,” Laurent murmurs.

“You will too one day,” Auguste says softly.

“No,” Laurent shakes his head. “I’m not going to get married.”

“Don’t say that,”

Laurent pulls away and looks up at him. He shrugs his shoulders then pushes some hair from his eyes. He glances over at the closed door, then back to Auguste.

“I’m not going to get married,” Laurent repeats. “There’s just… No need.”

Auguste bites his lip and stares at his younger brother. Laurent sits down on his bed and runs his hands across the comforter he knows so well. Auguste walks over and kneels in front of him. He presses kisses to Laurent’s pale hands then rests his head in his lap.

“I’m always going to be yours, Laurent.” He says. “No foreign princess is going to change that.”

They stare at each other in silence before Auguste adds, “Are you always going to be mine?”

Laurent nods silently and looks down at their hands. He squeezes them tightly then looks at Auguste. He wants him to be happy and if getting married is what makes him happy, then who is Laurent to stand in his way?

“I love you.” Laurent says quietly. 

Auguste bites his lip hard and stands. Laurent just stares down at his hands.

“I do.” Laurent says quietly.

“Stop it,” Auguste sighs, closing his eyes. “Don’t… You can’t say that.”

“But I do!” Laurent says, looking at him defensively.

“I know but…”

“It’s just the truth I…” Laurent sighs and stands. “I love you, Auguste.”

Auguste looks over at the blonde and he feels his heart break. He looks small and vulnerable and sad. Auguste walks over to him and holds his arms out. Laurent leans into him, covering his face with his hands.

There’s nothing to be said. There’s nothing to do. They just stand there, Auguste’s arms wrapped around Laurent as Laurent fights back the onset of tears.

 _It’s going to be a beautiful wedding._ Laurent thinks.


	26. equal

It’s much more than just mother and son. Perhaps she would be frowned upon for not being stricter, but there’s no need. Laurent is a good child. He’s growing up to be a sweet young man.

But it’s much more than just mother and son. Hennike doesn’t put him down to prove that she’s the parent. No, they’re equals. They’re friends. They’re partners in annoying Laurent’s father.

“Father won’t listen to me,” Laurent sighs one day, head resting in his mother’s lap. “Auguste has taught me what I need to do and I’ve sat in on enough meetings.”

“I know, my dear,” Hennike frowns as she braids a lock of golden hair.

“Why doesn’t he listen to me like you do?” He asks.

Hennike sighs softly, scratching his scalp gently. She gently lets go of Laurent’s braid and picks up another lock of hair to braid.

“Because to him you’re just a child,” she says. “And children are to be seen and not heard.”

“But Auguste is his child.” Laurent points out.

“Yes, but Auguste is getting to be a grown man.”

Laurent shrugs his shoulders. He leans into his mother’s touch, enjoying the way it feels to have someone play with his hair. He closes his eyes and sighs, gently holding onto himself.

“I’m not just a child to you, right mother?” Laurent asks. “You value what I say, don’t you?”

“Of course, darling.” She says. “What did you say that your father isn’t valuing?”

Laurent rolls over and looks up at his mother, blue eyes piercing into hers. He looks away for a moment, then looks back up at his mother.

“We shouldn’t go to war with the Akielons.” He says quietly. Hennike’s expression softens.

“You’re right, we shouldn’t.”

“The why doesn’t father listen to me when _I_ tell him?” He asks. “Auguste doesn’t listen either.”

“I know,” she sighs.

“Why doesn’t father listen to me? He only listens to Auguste. Auguste is his child, too.”

“Yes, he is.” She says. “But Auguste is to be a prince and he’s all but grown.”

Laurent rolls back over, allowing his mother to braid his hair again. She watches him, watches the way his back rises and falls as he breathes. She hates that Laurent has to be the son no one pays attention to. He’s an incredibly smart child, he would make a fine king one day. Not to say Auguste wouldn’t, but Hennike can only imagine what good Laurent would be able to do.

She gives him all the attention she can. She recommends books to him and soothes him when he has bad dreams. She listens to him, to his ideas, and adds to them. They work together, they’re partners. Accomplices.

“Laurent, you’re more than just a child to me.” She says. “You’re my equal.”

“I’m sure father wouldn’t be happy to hear you say that.” Laurent murmurs.

“I don’t care,” she answers softly. “I know you’re more than my child. You’re brilliant and talented and you have traits that need to be recognized.”

There’s silence for a moment. Laurent looks over his shoulder at his mother, timid. He’s always had so much respect for her. She’s a very kind woman and he hates that she doesn’t have more say in Vere politics.

“And if I have to be the only one to recognize them,” she adds, petting Laurent’s hair. “Then, by God, I will be.”

Laurent smiles and sits up. He hugs his mother tightly and Hennike smiles. She hugs him back, petting his soft hair gently. Laurent pulls away and looks up at her, practically beaming.

“It’s us against the world, isn’t it mother?” 

“It very well may be, my dear.” She says. “It very well may be.”


	27. touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> very very mild nsfw ahead

Laurent shivers, gently pressing his face into silken pillows with a quiet groan. Damen smiles, feeling a surge of triumph hit him like a wave. Laurent gently pushes his rear back towards his lover, whining quietly.

Damen gently curls his fingers inside of him, watching the way Laurent twitches. Slowly, he pulls him out and gently positions himself in between Laurent’s pale legs. He gently strokes down Laurent’s back and hums softly.

“Are you ready?” He asks.

Laurent pulls his face from his pillows. “Yes.” 

Damen smiles and picks up a vial of oil. He pours some into his hand then coats his length with it. He grabs Laurent’s hips then slowly pushes himself into him. Laurent moans lowly, pushing himself back towards him. 

Damen sinks himself inside of Laurent with a low moan. He pulls out, then pushes all the way back in, beginning a gentle rhythm. Laurent pants softly, gently chanting his name into the pillows.

His touch is intoxicating. Damen’s touch leaves Laurent begging for more. It’s tender and gentle. There’s such a strong feeling of love behind his touch. He runs his hands up Laurent’s back and Laurent arches into the touch.

“You’re stunning,” Damen says and all Laurent can do is moan. “I love having you like this.”

Laurent leans back towards him as he thrusts, feeling warm euphoria build up in his chest. This is what it’s like to be in love and to be happy.

Once they’re both spent, Laurent lays on top of Damen as Damen strokes his back. Laurent arches into the touch, like a cat, and hums quietly.

Damen’s touch is warm and comfortable. Damen’s touch is safe.


	28. war

Auguste gives a sympathetic smile and takes a few steps towards his younger brother. Laurent lowers his gaze, ashamed of the tears he feels building up in his eyes. Auguste kneels to his brother’s height and gently ruffles his hair.

“Laurent, don’t cry.” He says, lifting his face a little.

Laurent yanks his face away and looks down at his feet. Auguste friend and reaches out, pulling the younger prince to him. Laurent stays stiff, not leaning into the hug. He stays as still as a statue. He doesn’t last long before Auguste finally feels his body tremble then hears Laurent whimper into his shoulder.

Laurent wraps his arms around his brother and weeps into his shoulder, his hands balling into little fists in his shirt. Auguste frowns, rubbing his back slowly as Laurent struggles to breathe.

“Don’t cry,” Auguste soothes, smoothing his heat back. “Don’t cry, don’t cry.”

“You ha-ave to come back!” Laurent chokes. “I can’t li-ive without you.”

“Don’t say that,” Auguste says in a firmer tone. “Laurent, you know I’m going to come back. No Prince of Akielos is going to strike me down.”

“He can’t!”

“He won’t.” Auguste assures.

He pulls away from Laurent and kisses his forehead. Laurent sniffles and chokes down a sob, reaching down and holding Auguste’s hands. Auguste brings them to his lips and kisses the backs of Laurent’s hands.

“You believe me, don’t you?”

Laurent sniffles, swallowing hard. He shrugs his shoulders and looks down, biting on his lower lip. Auguste squeezes his hands gently and looks at him.

“Don’t you?” Auguste asks gently.

“Yes,” Laurent sniffles. 

Laurent looks over Auguste’s shoulder at the multitude of men waiting for him. He looks back down and hugs onto Auguste again. He tries not to sob, but he can’t help it. 

“Please come back,” Laurent whispers. “You can’t leave me.”

“I’m going to come back, Laurent.” He whispers back. “I promise.”


	29. “I miss you. I miss our conversations.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> capri month is almost over and i am sad

When he lays him down, he sits with him a while. He sits on the edge of the bed, giving Laurent room to stretch out on the bed. Maybe it’s genuine exhaustion, maybe it’s the alcohol, but Laurent falls asleep quickly.

Damen knows he should leave, but he can’t. He just sits and stares at Laurent. He looks like something straight out of a painting. The way his head rests on his arm, his his hair falls, his blonde eyelashes fluttering every now and then.

Damen feels a small ache in his heart. _‘I miss you,’_ Laurent had said. _‘I miss our conversations.’_ Damen doesn’t understand how Laurent can be so confusing. He doesn’t know where he stands with him.

Damen stands with a quiet grunt. He circles around the bed to Laurent’s face, just staring for another moment. He reaches out and gently pushes some hair from Laurent’s eyes.

“I miss you too,” he whispers, not wanting to wake him. “I miss our conversations and the closeness and the strategizing and…”

Damen trails off. He looks at Laurent’s porcelain face for a moment and sighs. He leans down, pressing a small kiss to his temple, then pulling away.

“I miss _you._ ” He says again.

Damen supposes he shouldn’t linger any longer. He pulls the blankets up over Laurent then quietly leaves his chambers, a faint ache beating in his heart.


	30. suffering/recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nicaise is 19+

It comes and goes in waves for both Laurent and Nicaise. Understandably so, but it’s emotionally taxing. Especially when both of them are the type to put walls up around them before anyone has the chance to get in.

Laurent sits up, rubbing at his eyes, pushing some stray hair from his face. It takes a moment to register in his tired mind what’s happening in the bed next to him, but it registers nonetheless. He looks down at Nicaise, caught in the sheets of the bed, squirming and thrashing. 

Laurent leans down and pushes the sheets away from Nicaise’s kicking legs. Being tangled in them isn’t fun, Laurent would know. He lays down face to face with the younger man, gently resting a hand on his shoulder.

Nicaise’s sapphire eyes fly open and he pushes away from Laurent, coming dangerously close to falling off the edge of the bed. Damen stirs and sits up, looking over tiredly at his lovers. Laurent slowly lets go of Nicaise and holds his hands up, sitting up slowly as Nicaise scrambles to sit up.

In the faint light of the room, Damen and Laurent can see the panic swimming in Nicaise’s eyes. It starts to roll out in heavy tears down Nicaise’s cheek and he inhales. Nicaise reaches a shaking hand out to Laurent, swallowing hard. Laurent takes it, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. Nicaise curls in on himself and lets out a soft sob.

“Please,” he says, turning his face from the other two men. “ _Please_ don’t let him touch me.”

“He’s dead, Nicaise.” Laurent says.

“Nothing is ever going to hurt you again,” Damen adds.

Nicaise looks between the two of them, struggling to catch his breath. He reaches his arms out to them and Damen and Laurent happily take the younger man into their arms. Nicaise presses his face into Laurent’s chest and holds his hand out to Damen. Damen gently takes hold of it, pressing a kiss to his palm.

Nicaise’s back rises and falls rapidly with his breaths. Laurent gently cards his fingers through brunettes curls and shushes him softly, doing what he can to calm him down.

“Nicaise,” he whispers. “We have you, my darling. You’re safe, my dear.”

Nicaise shudders against his older lover, trying to find his breath. He gasps against Laurent’s chest, wishing he could just stop and calm down. Why is he even this worked up? His mind is moving at a million miles a minute.

“Nicaise.” Comes Laurent’s voice, firmer this time. His face is in Laurent’s hands and he can’t remember when that happened. “Look at me.”

Blue meets blue and Nicaise lets out a whimper. He feels like a child again. A pathetic, scared child.

“You need to breathe.”

He feels Damen’s hands on his shoulders, gently massaging into the tense flesh there. He feels his shoulders relax without his consent and he lets out a pathetic sob as he tries to breathe. Damen presses a kiss to his head of curls as Laurent strokes his cheekbones with his thumbs.

“I can’t, _I can’t_.” Nicaise whimpers.

“Nicaise,” Damen says gently. “You must.”

It takes everything he has, but slowly Nicaise starts to take gasping breaths. He follows Laurent’s prompts, breathing slowly in and out as he does. Once he can breathe, he feels exhausted. 

He leans back into Damen’s arms, head on his chest, as Laurent watches him. The blonde leans forward and presses a small kiss to his lips. Nicaise leans up into it, sighing tiredly.

“Come on, darling,” Laurent murmurs, holding his arms out. “Let’s get you settled.”

“Please don’t make me go back to sleep,” Nicaise groans. “ _Please_ , I can’t emotionally handle it.”

“We won’t.” Damen hums. “We can just lay with you.”

Nicaise looks down at his hands, mindlessly picking at the skin on his fingers. He can’t remember when he picked up that nervous habit, but it’s been with him for a while now. He nods his head slowly and goes to lay down between Laurent and Damen’s pillows.

“That sounds nice,” he says quietly. “I think I’d like that.”


	31. personal choice

“I _want_ to do this, please.”

“Laurent, you don’t know what you want.”

“I’m _not_ a child, Auguste.

“Yes you _are_!”

Both of them stare at each other for a moment, blue on blue. It’s rare when Auguste yells and Laurent almost feels bad for making him do so. But, Laurent is hard headed. It’s frustrating, but it’s something that Auguste knows.

Laurent crawls across the bed to Auguste. He puts his head on his chest and lets Auguste wrap his strong arms around him. Laurent carefully shifts into his lap, pressing his face into the crook of his neck.

“Are you angry?” Laurent asks.

“No,” Auguste says. “You’re just very thick skulled.”

“That’s what father says too.” 

Auguste rubs Laurent’s back slowly, listening to him breathe. Laurent presses soft kisses to the base of Auguste’s neck and Auguste sighs, nudging his younger brother away. Laurent looks up at him then looks down at his hands, resting them on Auguste’s chest. 

“You love me, don’t you, Auguste?”

“You know I do,” Auguste answers with little to no hesitation. 

“Then why won’t you have me?”

“ _Laurent_ ,” Auguste sighs. “You’re just fifteen. You’re not old enough.”

“Uncle says I’m old enough.”

“Well uncle is wrong.” Auguste says sternly.

Auguste lifts Laurent’s face and they stare at each other, blue on blue. Auguste presses a gentle kiss to Laurent’s forehead and Laurent leans into the touch. Auguste pauses and runs a hand through Laurent’s hair. Whatever sick thoughts their uncle has put in his brain, Auguste swears he’s going to kill him for it.

“But I promise I want to,” Laurent says.

“I know you do,” Auguste says gently. “But you’re too young. Do you understand?”

Laurent nods his head then leans forward again. He wraps his arms around Auguste’s neck and Auguste wraps his arms around Laurent’s middle. He rocks his younger brother slowly, rubbing up and down his spine.

Laurent pulls away and slithers off the bed quietly. He pulls his hair back and kisses Auguste’s cheek.

“I think I’m going to go to the library,” he says. Auguste nods. “Will you join me later?”

Auguste nods. “Of course.”

Laurent nods his head then leaves Auguste’s chambers. Auguste sighs and rubs his face, shaking his head. Why did he have to be such a handful?


	32. gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m so sad that capri month is over!! i’ve had so much fun writing these, the prompts were amazing. i loved reading your reactions and receiving your support. i’m definitely going to miss this year’s capri month, but i’m sure next year will be just as good!! thank you so much for your support and enthusiasm.  
> with all the support that this work has received, i’ve decided to put up a patreon. if you wouldn’t mind just checking it out or consider supporting, it would mean worldsful!   
> https://www.patreon.com/hyacinthis?alert=2

When the sun hits him, he illuminates. He’s a beacon of light and love. _He’s golden_ , Damen thinks. A golden god, descended down from the heavens to bless Damen.

He moves forwards and wraps his arms around him. Laurent smiles, turning and kissing him. Damen runs his fingers through golden hair and kisses his soft lips.

Golden, Laurent is golden. Golden hair, golden cuff, golden heart. 

“I love you,” Damen says softly, pulling the other close.

“I love you too.” Laurent smiles.

“You’re a god,” Damen gushes.

“Don’t say that,” Laurent says, face flushing. 

“But you are, look at you.”

Laurent leans forwards, pressing kisses to Damen’s lips. Damen smiles, hugging him close. He picks him up, spins him around, then sets him back down with a kiss.

Laurent is golden. Golden heart, golden hair, golden cuff. But, Damen has come to find out, so is their love.

Their love is golden and glimmering and rare and beautiful. It’s a love that can’t be replicated. It’s a love that Damen never wants to experience with anyone else.


End file.
